The Color Of Love: A BWWM Billionaire Alpha Male Romance

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The Color Of Love: A BWWM Billionaire Alpha Male Romance Page 3

by BWWM Club


  Sara assured her boss that she would inform the owner of his intention to meet her and hung up. Finally, someone had gotten something right.

  Chapter 3

  Only because Victoria and Abby ignored the speed limit did they arrive on time. The near screeching stop in the busy parking lot caused a few stares and Victoria was certain the sudden halt had caused some destruction to the delicate food creations in the back of their van. Abby needed no instruction, and slammed the door shut before bounding to the entrance to announce their arrival, while her boss and friend searched for a vacant space nearest to the active delivery door.

  DMC Theater Live looked nothing like its former self. Gone were the old cheap reflective panes of glass that covered the large building and the old gargoyle statue that greeted patrons as they entered. Replacing the outdated décor, were new transparent glass sheets, allowing the people waiting outside to see the bustling lobby. A phoenix emerging from an illuminated fountain was now the figure welcoming all patrons. The service door at the back where Victoria waited was less grand, but impressive none the less.

  A tall, pale man with a headset and clip board appeared with Abby through the door as he belted out instructions on where to go and how to set up. His boss accepted nothing below the highest standard and the man with the headset insisted on nothing less from the almost late caterers.

  Once inside, the man with the headset darted off to fix some other catastrophe and Victoria and Abby were left alone to remember the directions. People in crisp blue and white uniforms hustled about even though this was just a rehearsal. On the walls of the staff area they passed, were framed quotes of encouragement and inspiration and Victoria couldn’t help notice the incentive notice board. This month’s winner of service excellence was being treated to a weekend in a penthouse suite with his/her chosen guest. Their boss wasn’t too shabby at all.

  The set up for the food was not in the lobby as Victoria had imagined, but in a separate dining area that gave a full view of the stage - very convenient for a dinner show. Busying themselves with the setting of the buffet table and instructing the resident staff on how things were done Palette style, they gave little notice to the fine linen on each table or the elegant upholstered chairs that resembled something from the Victorian era - classy indeed.

  It was when Abby didn’t respond to Victoria’s request to prepare the executive plates for the directors, that she looked around to find out what was distracting her usually focused friend. She was staring blankly at the set watching the exchange between a tall, slender man and the actors on the stage. She had to call Abby’s name twice before she gauged any reaction from her.

  “Abby… Abby, I’m talking to you!” Victoria said. Reluctantly Abby tore her eyes away from whatever was captivating her and whispered, “Do you see him… the one shouting at the people on the stage? He’s the owner of this place and the other DMC business. I also hear he has a string of high end hotels. Isn’t he scrumptious?”

  Victoria rarely saw her friend love struck and decided to inspect just who had her so smitten. Admittedly, the man she pointed out was striking. His jaw line was angular and reminded her of the men often seen on the cover of romance novels. His hair was blonde and the skin on his exposed collar and arms were tanned. Only when he turned away from the stage did Victoria catch a glimpse of his green eyes which seemed to be sparking fire. His sleeves were rolled up and his fist thrust in his pockets as he walked away from the stage with a stubborn but debonair strut. It was clear to see why he was the head man in charge. His presence alone commanded compliance.

  Abby waited patiently for her to agree that Dawson Ledger was a masterpiece and grudgingly Victoria nodded. Secretly, she thought he was a bit arrogant. There was no need to yell at the actors and actress so aggressively. He was an angry show off in her view.

  As the actors and other staff rolled through to enjoy the night’s preparations, Victoria and Abby received many compliments on their menu selections. Quite a few faces appeared asking for seconds and even the staff helping them serve the food snuck a bite or two. A woman looking as pressured as the man in the headset appeared and asked for Victoria by name.

  She was pleasant enough but for a young woman she looked haggard and hence, too much makeup was packed on in an attempt to look fresh. It was unsuccessful. Acknowledging her name, Victoria stepped forward and introduced herself.

  “Hello, I am Victoria Jones, the Creative Director of Palette.”

  Sara responded with a firm handshake before saying, “I just wanted to let you know that my boss is thrilled with the creations you served tonight. He also asked me to say that he would be down in a few minutes to personally thank you for such stellar service. Good job!”

  Never one to reveal her emotion through her facial expression, Victoria acted like any successful business owner - gracious and humble. She bowed and thanked Sara for the glowing comments before admitting, “It was my pleasure to work for a creative venture such as this. It really is a place for artistry and I am inspired.”

  With another firm handshake, Sara disappeared and Victoria turned to Abby and gave her a thumbs up. Going against her will was the best thing Abby ever did. The clean up was underway when the man shouting at the people on the stage walked in. He spoke to the older gentleman putting the used table linen in a trolley and then made his way over to the emptying table where Victoria and Abby stood - well Victoria was standing, Abby was shifting from leg to leg as Dawson strode over to them. The poor girl was a mess.

  His green eyes were even more emerald close up. He smiled almost sheepishly as he said his name and stuck out his hand to Abby first. She did not react. It was Victoria who eventually ended the awkward silence created by her friend’s nervousness and said, “Excuse her Mr. Ledger, she seems to be having stage fright. I am Victoria, owner of Palette and this is Abby my assistant. It’s certainly nice to meet you.”

  His chuckle was deep and sincere as he shifted the handshake intended for Abby to Victoria. He shook vigorously, but slowly as he inspected his new caterer - he did it to most women. Uncomfortable at being examined so closely, Victoria cleared her throat and attempted to bring the conversation back into a professional line.

  “I understand that you enjoyed our food. Did I get the artistic interpretation you were looking for Mr. Ledger?”

  His grin was boyish but his tone arrogant as he announced, “It was ok… question is can you do it again?”

  Victoria chuckled at the challenge and said plainly, “It’s always better the second time Mr. Ledger.”

  His grin faded and Victoria cussed herself internally. Why was she flirting with this rich white man who obviously thought himself to be the overlord?

  The answer wasn’t immediately clear, but she listened to his response with great intrigue. “Not in my books Ms. Jones… it’s the third time that makes it a charm.” His tone was as serious as his face as he delivered the last statement and bid Victoria and her still star struck friend good evening. The man was indeed something to ponder.

  *****

  Dawson was a man who loved collecting rare items and gems and so far the only treasure to elude him was a good woman. Certainly looks were important and sometimes blood line and pedigree did factor in, but overall, even the ones he slept with and rejected had something special and he was seeing that in Victoria.

  She had a take charge attitude that stimulated the part of Dawson’s brain that could not be shut off. He would have to hang around the staff table more often. She was not tall and her hair wasn’t flowing the way the other women he lusted after usually wore their hair. The low cropped blond did appear to be a form of rebellion framing the chocolate face of a determined woman. Her eyes were brown and deep. There was more to this business owner than met the eye. Her friend was stunning physically but there was something about Victoria that drew him in. Rarity attracted him.

  When she shook his hand, he noticed the calluses as they rubbed against his palm. She was no strang
er to hard work it seemed. Victoria’s aura was one of self assurance and conviction. Even though he complimented her, she never gushed or glowed and this excited him. Much like her assistant, many of the women he dated were star struck and Dawson was secretly pleased that Victoria had spoken to him as just a man - not a famous man but just like any other individual. She had pride, a trait Dawson admired and respected and lastly she seemed like a challenge and that was the most attractive thing of all.

  Was Victoria Jones, the creator of some of the best food he had ever tasted flirting with him? It would seem she was and Dawson just couldn’t resist bantering back. The short conversation was electric. Having never dated a black woman, Dawson thought of the shock waves the news would send though his elite and sometimes stuffy circle and was instantly convinced that it would be something to enjoy. Time would tell if she had the stamina to keep his pace.

  *****

  Over the course of the following week Dawson made his presence felt in the dining room. Victoria would only be there for a few hours and he intended to make an impression. Usually Victoria wore chef attire, but for some reason today she was dressed differently. Gone was the bulky black jacket and slacks she usually wore and in their place was a very feminine dress. The leaf green garment fit her body like a glove - not that it was tight or revealing, It just hugged the curves of her voluptuous figure in the right way. There was a slit that started about three inches above her knee and ended at the hem of the dress near her ankles. Her feet were encased in flat leather slippers decorated with natural wooden beads. The bohemian look was arousing a very European Dawson and he was well aware of it.

  She moved with surety, giving orders to people she had met just days prior and they complied as though the words had come from Dawson himself. Small colored bracelets dangled at her wrists as she pointed out where she wanted things to go and the statement copper earring dangling in her ears were almost a work of art. Her bald blonde head snapped back and forth as the clapped to get the attention of a slacker. She reminded him of a dark skinned gypsy.

  Last night he decided that he would ask her out. He didn’t expect an easy yes, but it was the thrill of pursuit and the magnetism of her personality that drew him. Besides that, he never took no for an answer and saw all rejection as a renewed opportunity to go for the gold.

  Her purse was under her arm as she prepared to leave Abby in charge. It seems the Lady Boss was on the way out. Quickening his step to catch her as she disappeared through the service area doors, Dawson called out her name. “Ms. Jones, may I have a word with you?” He asked while running his fingers through his blonde hair - a sign of nervousness he seldom displayed. Dawson could swear he detected annoyance when she turned and forced a smile. This was new to him as most times the ladies clamored to be at his side. She was going to be more work than he thought. “I can see you are in a hurry but I just wanted to ask if we could have a social drink with me later this evening… if you are free that is.” She maintained her plastic smile before saying, “I’m so sorry Mr. Ledger but I have a pressing engagement that will run into this evening. I have to decline, but thank you.” Walking all the while as she spoke, Victoria placed her sunglasses on her nose and exited the door. Dawson stared at the now closed steel door and smiled. Yes, he was going to have to work harder to win her over, but he was not worried - he was accustomed to winning.

  *****

  The phone call she received this morning would leave anyone shaken and the wait for four thirty to roll around took painstakingly long. Abby did most of the food preparation today. All creativity had been sucked out of her and yet she had to go.

  It seems agitation went well with Victoria’s personality and people definitely understood she was in a no nonsense mood today. The waitresses at DMC were accustomed to the shouting of their boss but the new abrasive attitude Victoria displayed today definitely cemented that she was not a woman to mess with.

  Her makeup was on today and despite the copper and burnt orange eye shadow she wore over her brown eyes, she was in no light and airy mood. Abby understood her without asking too many questions about the sour mood.

  Abby wasn’t in the best of spirits either simply because the man she had her eye on was actively flirting with her best friend and boss. Jealousy began to blossom in her heart and it was a hard weed to kill.

  Watching him chase after Victoria as she left for her private appointment, Abby wondered why he hadn’t chosen her. Meanwhile, down the hall, Victoria wondered how she would face the demon she thought she had exercised from her life before a smooth voice broke her train of thought. Dawson Ledger, all around arrogant billionaire and general commander, was on her tail again and she was becoming tired.

  Yes, he was handsome and yes, he was charming but he was not her choice of hot beverage. She preferred her coffee without vanilla, but he was insisting that he'd add his flavor to her chocolate mix. Flirting was by no means a commitment to a date, but somehow this man seemed to believe that it was. In Victoria’s mind she figured he had finally been bitten by the mosquito that gave white rich men the dreaded fever causing them to go deliriously crazy over women of color.

  His walk was overly confident and he spoke in a manner that suggested he always got his wish. But not today - maybe if he had asked her yesterday, but not today. The look of astonishment on his face communicated just what ran through her head and as she closed the steel door behind her, she smiled for the first time since the phone call. It seemed that being in control of herself in his presence was going to be a problem for him. Well then, ‘Problem’ would have to be her middle name.

  *****

  The monitors beeped and tiny digital lights indicated that the man on the bed was alive. The woman at his side appeared centuries older than the last time she saw her and the old feelings of jealousy faded away - instead Victoria felt pity and sorrow.

  Her sallow face turned to Victoria’s direction as she peered through the glass separating her from the painful scene on the other side. Standing and smiling at her, the woman summoned Victoria inside and tried to straighten her appearance in the presence of company. Victoria believed her wardrobe effort to make herself more cheerful now seemed inappropriate. Green represented life and this was the setting for death.

  As Victoria came inside, Cherry, Timothy’s wife came forward to share a hug. Releasing her, Cherry whispered, “He asked to see you… he wanted to apologize and I didn’t think it fair to deny him the release of that burden… we all make mistakes and we all deserve a chance. I will leave you two to talk. He has little strength, but he knows you are here. I’ll be in the cafeteria.”

  The humility of the woman Victoria had stolen from humbled her - a husband wasn’t something one could borrow and return undamaged. At home, there was always a wife or husband feeling the pain. Cherry was that woman.

  There was no tube in his throat, but the one in his nose looked uncomfortable and as Victoria leaned in to call his name, Timothy’s eyes fluttered open, widening as he recognized her. Smiling as tears rolled down her cheek, she made a joke that she knew Timothy’s quirky nature would appreciate, “I would ask you how you are doing but I can figure out the answer to that.”

  He tried to muster a smile, but it seemed to hurt him internally and so he opted of a slight grin and a nod. Motioning with the hand the nurses seemed to be using for a pin cushion, Timothy motioned her closer. Cautiously stepping forward, Victoria drew nearer to the ailing man she once loved. He was paler than a ghost and even the blue veins under his skin that once carried life giving blood to his body had faded in color. His once strong voice was shaky and soft now, it was barely audible.

  “Victoria, I want to ask your forgiveness. What I did was wrong and both you and my wife suffered in the end.” He paused to catch his fading breath before struggling to continue, “I want you to promise me something, never let what I have done to you stop you from being the woman you are. You deserved better and so did Cherry and now that I am dying, I’ve caused
her more agony.”

  He began to cough violently and pointed to the glass of water on the bedside table. After sipping a tiny amount he flopped his head back on the pillow in exhaustion. In a regretful tone he muttered, “the end for me is near… I had no idea this hereditary disease had gotten me… sickle cell disease is no joke but neither is life. I am sorry I hurt you Victoria but I am happy we met. Taking risks like I did can have a bittersweet ending, but I hope any decisions before you, are met with vigor. You only live once Victoria… you only live once.”

  He fell silent and after a few silent minutes Victoria realized he had fallen back to sleep. As the nurses entered the room to do whatever they did, she slipped through the door to find Cherry standing there watching the nurses monitor the machines supplying this man she once hated and loved with life. Patting Cherry’s shoulder she said, “Call me… when it happens… Thank you for allowing me into your private life and I am sorry for any agony I caused.” Without waiting for a response Victoria turned from the faces of pain and death and left the hospital.

  Chapter 4

  Today was the final grand rehearsal for DMC Theater Live but she was in no mood to work. Seeing Tim yesterday made her wonder if she was indeed focusing on business too much. She thought about Abby and her mother and Dawson traversed across her mind as well.

  There was something about him that bothered her - maybe it was his color, maybe it was his wealth, maybe it was his status. In the end, Victoria concluded it was all of them. Running her hand over her tiny blond afro, she wondered what it would be like to be with him. She heard stories about how old money treated black people and she didn’t want to be a part of that. She honestly believed that Dawson would want to be in command of her simply because he always got his way and this disturbed her.

  Suddenly energized to meet the day, Victoria bounded from the bed and headed for the shower. She was full of life and she was going to live it. Dawson would have to keep his controlling demeanor to himself - she would not go out with him. That was her final decision and there would be no more flirting either. She would not dance with the devil.

 

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